Night of Broken Glass
by inthemist
Summary: Omi lives the events of World War II through a dream and soon, he starts to doubt his life and his position at Weiss. (Look familiar? Read AN)


A/N: Okay, people. I know. It's been two years, and I don't know how many of you guys even remember my story. But anyways, I'm back! And since I forgot my old e-mail and password, I made a new account with my old pen name with a number tacked onto it. Just be assured that I am the same author who began "Night of Broken Glass". I just got lazy and never wanted to finish it. This version is revamped from the original. If you want to read the first horribly written part, go ahead and search for it, cuz it's still there. Now thank you for putting up with this long author note. Just read the story already, 'kay?

Disclaimer: I don't own Weiss. I never have, never will. So, "one, two, better not sue!"

* * *

"Omi? Omi!"

Shinji Yamamura was shaking the kitten impatiently by the shoulders. "Omi, are you even listening to me? I don't get what the teacher meant by list the incomes in every 'd' cell!" Omi kept on ignoring his classmate's plea for help and kept his face looking straight at the glowing screen.

"O-mi!" Shinji stabbed his finger into the kitten's neck.

"OW! What was that for?" Omi said, snapping out of his daze.

"You dunderhead. I'm going to fail this class because of you, I just know it. BRILLIANT Omi Tsukiyono, top of the class, too smug to help a fellow student. Maybe you're just too afraid that I'll become Ogawa-sensei's newest pet," he said, finishing off his speech with a sour glare.

"And your point is?" he said flippantly, spinning around in his chair to face the copper-haired bully with a look of pure spite. It was just bad luck that Omi's partner in tech class had to be one of the most infamous homework leeches in the school. But in a way, he was glad for it. Maybe, with one semester of hell with the moron, he could teach Shinji Yamamura how to do his own work and show him how it feels to get some good grades without beating a geek up. He was getting at it slowly, but then, there were some attitude problems he had to deal with.

He hated Shinji's lowliness so much, he wanted to give the guy _some_ dignity.

"Show me how to do this graphing assignment and I promise you I'll get nothing higher than a C."

"You mean you want me to do the assignment for you," he clarified for him. "I'm only going to explain it to you, okay? But you have to do this stuff by yourself."

"Okay, okay, don't go postal on me!"

_I'll show you postal,_ Omi said to himself.

He was chasing a track star the other night: your typical high school sports prodigy gone major, throwing away all the glory he had with a few drags on a joint and murders to top it all off. Just what made Omi so outraged at his target was unclear to him. But anyway, he sprinted with a swiftness that matched the fallen athlete's speed, going fast just enough to catch the guy, pin him to the ground, and stab a dart personally right into his neck.

Postal? This was tranquility. And remembering all of this made Omi wonder why he didn't just wait for the runner to take a rest. Then he could've given the poison without wasting energy. Maybe something possessed him that night.

"Are you listening, Tsukiyono?" Shinji prodded. "Now you're not listening to me. I'm this close to telling the truth to your teachers about all of your little naps in class."

"Don't be stupid." That was true, though – given all of his late-night missions, he didn't have enough sleep, and he slept in class to compensate for it. He still got bags under his eyes, and slipping grades to boot as well, despite his efforts.

"All right then. In the 'd' column, type the information in every cell block. Simple as that."

Shinji's face grew puzzled. "You trying to pull something, Tsukiyono?" he said; then he flopped into his chair and stared bewildered at the screen.

Omi sighed and turned to his own monitor. Thanks to No-Brains Yamamura, his assignment wasn't done, and it was due at the end of class. He sighed heavily again and resumed his work.

Just then, the bell rang.

"Schist." A rock's name, dangerously close to a swear word – something that Bombay had picked up from his science teacher to avoid profanity. Swear word or not, his feelings were the same, and he scrambled to save his half-finished assignment. He clicked on the menu item again and again, but it still wouldn't save. The blasted thing had frozen.

"No. No. You can't do this to me," he said frantically, clicking on it over and over again. The screen went black. "DAMN IT!"

"Tsukiyono!" Mr. Ogawa admonished. "You can either stay here and have mewash your mouth out, or you can go to class and let it be forgotten. Go!"

"Okay!" He scooped up his books and bag into one arm and waddled his way to history, trying to keep his things from falling to the floor. His arm aching from the combined weight of his tech and history books, he flung himself into his desk right when the bell rang. He wasn't tardy. Miss Kurosaki, a perfect Manx replica with straight black hair, wasn't going to kill him.

He glanced at the blackboard.

THE HOLOCAUST AND ADOLF HITLER'S REIGN – PAGE 472

_Now really, if you're going to teach, do a decent job,_Omi thought. _Stop making us read all the time. _

Miss Kurosaki walked into the room and sat in her desk at the back, logging onto eBay as soon as she could. "Okay, class," she drawled, not paying attention to anything but the cheaply priced onyx earrings on the screen. "Read the whole chapter and try to absorb the material as much as you can." From there on, the class was silent, and in a thick stupor.

Omi read the first page, finding himself unusually interested. Some sort of adrenaline seemed to rush through his veins, and he found himself refreshed, awake, despite his four hours of sleep a night. But his sleep deprivation was stronger than he was. And no matter how hard he tried to stay focused on the chapter, he found himself slipping. His head feel with a thud on the pages of his book.

"Omi, wake up!"

He bolted upright and started to panic. No. He did not want detention today, not when White Day was coing soon, and all those procrastinated orders for flower arrangements would flood in at the Koneko. If he missed some work, Aya would yell at him, and life would become harder than he wanted it to be.

But when he looked around, he saw that he was in a bed. And it wasn't his.

* * *

Yeah. So there's the revamped first chapter of Night of Broken Glass. Isn't it funny how a person's writing can change over only 2 years? R/R, please!

Sorry if Omi seems a little OOC. Well, if you had someone as annoying as Shinji sitting next to you in class, you would act weird too.

3/ MysticAurora05


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